him. "I hoped you had struck something better than this."

"Me?" said Thomas. "Oh, I just took a run around the block to keep warm!
I see the public ain't lending to the Lord very fast to-night."

"In this kind of weather," said the young man, "charity avails itself of
the proverb, and both begins and ends at home."

And the Preacher and his vehement lieutenant struck up a last hymn of
petition to Providence and man. Those of the Bed Liners whose windpipes
still registered above 32 degrees hopelessly and tunelessly joined in.

In the middle of the second verse Thomas saw a sturdy girl with
wind-tossed drapery battling against the breeze and coming straight
toward him from the opposite sidewalk. "Annie!" he yelled, and ran
toward her.

"You fool, you fool!" she cried, weeping and laughing, and hanging upon
his neck, "why did you do it?"

"The Stuff," explained Thomas briefly. "You know. But subsequently nit.
Not a drop." He led her to the curb. "How did you happen to see me?"

"I came to find you," said Annie, holding tight to his sleeve. "Oh, you
big fool! Professor Cherubusco told us that we might find you here."

"Professor Ch---- Don't know the guy. What saloon does he work in?"

"He's a clairvoyant, Thomas; the greatest in the world. He found you
with the Chaldean telescope, he said."